Cherokee Rose
by 8hat8
Summary: Daryl Dixon hit's rock bottom after losing his lover. Does he have any reason to carry on? Set during their time in the prison and doesn't follow the WD story line (Daryl/Glen Slash) Warning: a bit depressing!


Daryl Dixon hit's rock bottom after losing his lover. Does he have any reason to carry on? Set during their time in the prison and doesn't follow the WD storyline (Daryl/Glen Slash) Warning: a bit depressing!

I wrote this part of the story a while ago – but not sure if I should carry on or if it's any good! Reviews are very welcome. So it's complete for now – but might carry on if I find some more inspiration.

Disclaimer – I do not own The Walking Dead or any of the characters mentioned. Wish I did though (even toy versions would keep me happy!)

**Cherokee Rose**

The hunter sank to the cold concrete floor of the cell in a drunken despair. Pieces of a shattered chair littered the rug at his knees. His coarse fingers ghosted over the broken pieces of crossbow by his side, a part of him wished his soothing touch would magically fix the weapon and the other wished his fingers were caressing the olive skin he missed so much.

A flash of lightening illuminated his blood encrusted face against the darkness, and he released an inhuman growl that merged with the thunder echoing through the prison.

He lifted the pieces of crossbow high above his head and hurtled them towards the wall and they shattered into a dozen smaller pieces as they fell to the floor. He cradled his head in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably into the darkness.

"I'm lost!" he cried "What should I do?"

With no answer he felt around for the almost empty bottle of brown liquid. He lifted it clumsily to his cracked lips and tasted the bitter despair trickling down his throat. He pulled his hunting knife from its sheath and stared at the dried blood clinging to the jagged blade.

"I'm sorry … I promised I wouldn't … but I can't be here anymore – Not without you!"

"Please don't do it Daryl!" a pleading whisper echoed from the walls.

Daryl sprang to his feet and searched the shadows frantically.

"Glen? Where are you?" he cried dropping the knife. He sank back to his knees and closed his eyes in defeat.

"Keep your eyes closed … I'm right here" The memory of Glen's voice soothed the broken man.

He felt the familiar shallow breathing of the young Asian on the nape of his neck and a kiss on his shoulder blade forced his head against the soft curls of Glen's hair. Daryl dared not open his eyes for fear of losing his illusion. He had ached for Glen's touch since that fateful day.

"Please come back to me Glen" he murmured as he felt slender arms wrapping around his chest. He shivered as the nimble fingers traced the outline of the angry scars under his shirt.

"I can't stay long … my time's running out … I have to go back"

"Please stay!" Daryl begged as he held Glen's calloused hands.

"I'm sorry … I … I can't … I was only given a minute to say my goodbyes!"

"But, how am I meant to …" Daryl's words abandoned him as he felt Glen's embrace weakening.

"I'm glad I met you - you saved my life in so many ways … I wanted to thank you for opening my eyes and sharing everything with me"

"Glen? I couldn't save you this time! I … I can't do this without you!"

"It doesn't matter … It's in the past but you CAN do this … I'll be watching you … just don't give up – you must take care of our family, they need you now more than ever" Daryl felt his chin being lifted and Glen's soft lips met his in a final chaste kiss.

"It's time" he whispered as he pulled away.

"No! Not yet!" Daryl's eyes shot open and he clawed desperately at the air.

"I love …" Glen's voice faded into the darkness.

"I loved you too" he whispered, glancing around the cell they once shared.

Daryl struggled to his feet slowly and made his way towards the door, hearing the familiar voices of his family in the distance. He retrieved the knife from the floor, cleaned away some of the blood stains with the hem of his shirt and placed it carefully in its sheath, before heading towards the others.

Another flash of lightening lit up the room. In the middle of the cell a beautiful white Cherokee rose had been propped up against the hunters' perfectly formed crossbow.


End file.
